


Best of 1993

by Yesilian



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, childhood homes, the NINETIES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3536615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yesilian/pseuds/Yesilian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"I'm going to make love to you now," he said and sighed for good measure. Sherlock looked at him blankly. In a carefully neutral tone of voice, he asked, "Is that so?"</i>
  <br/>
  <i>"Yes," John explained as if it didn't matter to him either way. He shrugged. "It's the law or something. When you bring your boyfriend, or girlfriend, to your childhood home you have to make love in your old bed."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best of 1993

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sick and going through my folder of unfinished Sherlock fics. There's at least 50k words there, which is... wow, and the reason why I only post WIP's if I ever finish them.
> 
> I don't even remember why I wrote this little piece here, where it was supposed to go or anything. It's kinda cute, though.
> 
> Come and be friends at yesilian.tumblr.com!

John knocked at the door.

“Go away,” came Sherlock’s muffled voice from inside.

“It’s me,” John said quietly, which was followed by an equally quiet, “Oh.” but no invitation to come in. John opened the door nonetheless.

Sherlock was curled up on his side on the small bed. Usually, he was prone to lying supine and rigid and it was seldom that John found him in any other position. What it did now was only helping in making him seem so much younger.

John could tell that he didn’t want to talk and so left him alone for a moment and distracted himself by inspecting Sherlock’s old room. If it hadn’t been very obviously very recently cleaned, John would have thought no-one had been in here for 20 years or more. It was a shrine, a museum dedicated to the teenager Sherlock had been and there weren’t many things that could hold John’s interest more than finding out anything about his friend’s past.

There were no posters on the wall, which was strange because wasn’t that kind of a law? That a teenager had to have posters on every available surface? Instead there was a large shelf full of giant tomes, none of which, as far as John could tell, were fiction. He found a box full of video cassettes and after looking for it specifically, a VCR still attached to an old TV set. In a corner was a desk on which a computer monitor took up almost half the available space. John laughed. He was back in the 90s and it was amazing.

A smaller black device, well small for then and big for now, caught his eyes next. He was magically pulled to the cassette recorder and checked it.

“There’s still a cassette in there!” he said surprised.

“It was a present!” Sherlock was very quick to assure which only prompted John to eject the tape and look at it.

“Best of 1993,” he read. He was delighted, put the cassette back in and pressed play. After awhile Whitney Houston’s unmistakable voice started filling the room and he sighed. This was too good.

“ It  _ was _ a  _ present _ ,” Sherlock repeated.

“Of course it was,” John indulged him.  

He turned around and found Sherlock on his elbows, staring daggers at him, alarm on his face. Something popped in John's throat at the sight and he swallowed around it with difficulty. It took him a moment, but then he was able to put a put-upon look onto his face.

"I'm going to make love to you now," he said and sighed for good measure. Sherlock looked at him blankly. In a carefully neutral tone of voice, he asked, "Is that so?"

"Yes," John explained as if it didn't matter to him either way. He shrugged. "It's the law or something. When you bring your boyfriend, or girlfriend, to your childhood home you have to make love in your old bed." 

"A law," Sherlock repeated. An idle smile was playing around the corners of his mouth.

"Or something," John said shrugging. He climbed into the bed that was really way too small for two grown men. Sherlock laid back on his back, looking up expectantly and John smiled fondly down at him. For a moment Sherlock stared off into space, scrunched his brow and pretended to think hard.

"I seem to have never heard of that," he concluded after awhile. John sighed heavily.

"Listen, mate, I don't  _ make _ the rules, I just follow them."

"And you've always been such a stand up guy. Following rules left and right," Sherlock quipped drily.

"Yes," John confirmed. "Now shut up and let me show you that I will, indeed, always love you," he said grimly as Whitney Houston sang on in the background. He closed the distance between their mouths and kissed Sherlock. They kept on kissing until the first notes of Haddaway's "What is love" started playing and John lost it. He laughed, wheezed almost.

"God, sorry, but this is like I'm twenty again. I'm waiting for your mum to show up and scold us for lying on the bed together," he said breathlessly between bouts of laughter. 

"That's more my dad's style. Mummy would have been delighted if I had ever brought home a boy," Sherlock told him. His look changed and he was serious all of a sudden.

"Can I make a confession?" he asked.

"Of course," John said, curious what it was. Sherlock bit his lip.

"It wasn't a present," he said very seriously. John laughed. He buried his head in the crook of Sherlock's shoulder, his laughter rippling through him and shaking them both. Sherlock smiled smugly.

"Since we are confessing our sins," John started, "I did make up that law. So you don't have to have sex with me now, if you'd rather not." 

"I'm shocked," Sherlock said drily. John hummed.

"But for what it's worth, if we go back down now, everyone will just assume that we did it anyway, so, you know, we might just." He kissed Sherlock's neck.

"Well in that case..."

"Yes," John confirmed eagerly.

 


End file.
